Never Let Me Go
by Voodooling
Summary: We all have our duty. Maybe none of us really understood what we've lived through, or felt that we've had enough time. EnglandxCanada. Inspired by the film 'Never Let Me Go'.
1. Chapter 1

**It's been awhile since I've written anything. I wanted to try something new, so hope you guys enjoy this!**  
**Loosely based on 'Never Let Me Go'. I've only seen the film, and have yet to read the book.**  
**Well, without further ado, on wards!**

**P.S. THERE HAVE BEEN SOME CONFUSION. It will eventually be EnglandxCanada.**

* * *

Terror flows from virtue.

I never really understood what that meant. I still don't understand it now. They are just words; but words said by a man who did much damage.  
It could be damage, or it could have been virtuous, depending on your outlook.  
One can't really pin down what is truly right or wrong anymore.  
Maybe it was never black and white- just an endless grey of different opinions of right and wrong.  
I don't think we truly understood our purpose, or why we were born, or why we were needed; between the formalities of our existence to the emotions we felt, none of it ever did make sense.  
But it doesn't matter now - all I can feel is the warmth in my hand - a warmth that is rapidly disappearing.

I don't want to let you go.

* * *

Hetalian Academy, October 1st, 1918

"I mean if I was out there, I'd tear the enemies apart! Pew pew! Pew pew!"  
Matthew rolled his eyes as his best friend talked animatedly beside him. Idly playing with the grass they sat on, he nodded once in awhile to acknowledge his friend's ramblings.  
"And you can be right beside me as we venture out of the trenches, charging across no-man's land! The hero with his sidekick! We'd win the war in no time!"  
"Alfred, how are we supposed to charge through no-man's land with all that barbed wire?" His friend, Alfred, gave him a look as if his question was silly.  
"We'd find a way! No one can stop the hero! So what do you say, Mattie? You'll be my sidekick right? Just you and me!" Matthew sighed, a small smile crept on to his lips.

"Oh course, Alfred."

* * *

_When we are scattered_  
_Afar and asunder_  
_Parted are those_  
_That are singing today_  
_When we look back_  
_And forgetfully wonder_  
_What we were like_  
_When we were not astray_  
_Oh how the old days_  
_Together all united_  
_Days of fresh air_  
_In the rain and sun_  
_How we rejoiced_  
_As we struggled and panted_  
_Peace throughout the land_  
_Hetalian Academy lives on_

"Good morning students."  
"Good morning Headmaster."  
"It has come to my attention that a few strengthening tablets have been discovered in our plumbing system." A wave of soft whispering arose from the student body. With a stern look from the Headmaster, the noise died down and it was silent again.  
"I know that some of you on occasion suffer from side effects from your strengthening tablets. Nausea, fever, muscle cramps - And have been discarding them into the toilets of our school." The Headmaster scanned the crowd in front of her, trying to spot anyone with a guilty conscience.  
"Children of Hetalian Academy are special. It is vital that you take these tablets to strengthen your health. It may seem to be doing harm to your bodies, but it is only temporary. In the long run, you will all grow up to be strong, healthy individuals. It is for your own good. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Headmaster."

* * *

"Do you see her there, next to the Headmaster?" Matthew turned to where Alfred was pointing. "Must be a new teacher. It's been ages since we had a new one."  
The woman was petite- she seemed like a kind woman. She did look a little haggard, thought Matthew. Maybe the war was worse than what they had been told?  
"She's so tiny!" Whispered Yao.  
"Must be because of the war." Replied Kiku. Alfred turned to his friends with a determined look on his face.  
" If I was out there, I'd make sure every single one of the allies had enough to eat!" His friends giggled at his enthusiasm.  
"Of course, Alfred."  
A cry of rage reached their ears. They all turned to the source of the sound.  
"Hah! It's that Arthur again." laughed Alfred.  
"They've insulted his eyebrows again, haven't they?" Said Yao, a grin on his face.  
"If only he learned to stop over-reacting like that. His eyebrows aren't as interesting to them as his temper tantrums."  
Ignoring what Alfred said, Matthew continued to look at the enraged boy. After a moment of contemplation, he got up, and started to head towards Arthur.  
"Hey Mattie where are you going?"  
But the question was left unanswered, as Matthew walked silently away from his friends. He reached the upset boy, and gently placed a hand on the other's shoulder.  
_SMACK!_  
Matthew stood, silent and expressionless, as realization dawned on Arthur's face. His face flushed in embarrassment, and after stuttering out something incoherent, he ran away from Matthew.

He missed the look of concern on Matthew's face.

* * *

"I saw you approach Arthur."  
Matthew look up from book to see the new teacher smiling at him. She made a gesture as if to ask him if she could sit down, and he nodded. Removing his feet from the chair next to him, he sat up straight as the teacher sat down.  
"It was a kind gesture."  
"Th-thank you, Miss…?"  
"I'm Miss Emily."  
"Thank you Miss Emily. I… just think that everyone deserves a chance." Miss Emily beamed at him.  
"What wise words! You are quite mature for your age." Matthew looked at her, surprised.  
"R-really? I just thought that it was common sense…" Miss Emily laughed.  
"Ah, if only the others were more like you. Children can be quite cruel." A moment of silence fell between them.  
"I was wondering…" Matthew looked up when she began to speak again. "How often do you have to consume those strength tablets?"  
"Every time before a meal, you should know that Miss Emily. Didn't you take them as a child?" Matthew didn't miss the surprised look on his teacher's face.  
"Ah, er, yes. We did."

Matthew blinked. Something seemed wrong.

* * *

Violet eyes scanned the cafeteria. They first stopped upon a group of familiar friends, but soon searched again before landing on a lone figure, hunched over a book.  
Mustering up his courage, Matthew walked with purpose, before placing his tray down in front of Arthur, startling the boy out of his book as Matthew sat down in front of him.  
"Good Afternoon, Arthur." Wide green eyes stared back at him. Then, a furious look appeared on Arthur's face.  
"Are you here to tease me? I've had enough of Alfred I don't need his sidekick bothering me t-"  
"Oh! The Picture of Dorian Gray!" Matthew ignored Arthur's bewilderment as he reached for the other's book.  
"You… You've read this book?"  
"More times that I can count! It's one of my favourites." Matthew flipped a few pages in. "Those who find ugly meanings…" He peeks at Arthur before continuing. "in beautiful things…" His gaze returns back to the book. "Are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault." He his gaze flickers back to Arthur, who's face has flushed to a deep crimson. "I like that line."  
"I… I never thought I'd find someone else who read the same things that I do, at our age."  
"I may hang out with Alfred, but we are total opposites. He immerses himself in comic books while I enjoy reading about how I 'must be cruel to be kind'."  
"Hamlet!"  
"Yes!" Both boys grinned at each other. They conversed excitedly about book they've read, books they planned to read, and the hour passed rapidly until the bell rang.

"I guess I'll see you around, Matthew."  
"Yeah, see you around!"  
They parted, and neither of them could rid of the smiles on their faces.

* * *

"What is that?"  
"I think it's a chicken."  
"Nah, it must be a squirell!"  
"But it has wings!"  
"It's… It's something I made up! Go away all of you!" The other students sniggered as they returned to their seats, leaving the angry boy to get back to his drawing. Matthew timidly walked up to Arthur, before peering over his shoulder to look at his artwork.  
"It's cute."  
"Oh sod off." Matthew grinned.  
"No, I really mean it! It's a flying bunny, right?" A small smile crept on to Arthur's face.  
"Well, at least someone got it right."  
"People just have no imaginations. Ignore them."  
"Thank you, Matthew. Uh.." He looks back down on to his drawing.  
"Green." Arthur looked back up. "You should paint him green,"  
"Green?"  
"Like your eyes." Arthur turned red.  
"O-oh.." An awkward silence fell between the two.  
"You know… I like your eyebrows. They give your face character."  
"… Oh sod off." Matthew laughed.  
"Your welcome." And with that, Matthew went back to his seat to return to his own artwork.

Arthur couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

* * *

"Kiku and Yao are dating."  
"Really?" Alfred grinned at his roommate.  
"Yeah! I saw them flirting behind the Greenhouse today!" And then Alfred lowered his voice, and whispered "And then… They kissed!" Matthew's eyes widened.  
"Really? Don't you think… They're too young to date? Plus, they're both boys."  
"Aw come on Mattie, you're the one that reads those silly books. Love is love right?" Matthew rolled his eyes.  
"I highly doubt people can truly be in love at twelve-"  
"But don't' you like Arthur?" Matthew snapped his gaze to Alfred.  
"Wh-What?"  
"You hang with him all the time now. And you spend all your time reading those silly books with him."  
"Our books aren't silly." He huffed. "And Arthur is a boy. I've read enough to know that it's not accepted in our society. Besides, he's not my type." They went silent for a few minutes.  
"You know Mattie… Arthur's changed."  
"Changed how?"  
"I don't' know.. Just… Different. He seems to be more friendly after he's met you."  
"I'm going to sleep."  
"Aww, Mattie! I'm not done gossiping with you!" He was met with silence. With a sigh, Alfred turns in his bed and lets himself drift to sleep.

But Matthew was still wide awake.

* * *

November 11th, 1918

With the end of the war that plagued Europe, Our Headmaster had given us a rare treat- to venture into the city to buy anything we wanted, using the money we earned from accomplishing little things back in the Academy. Much of it is a blur to me now, but I remember two things.

One. Arthur used all of his money to buy me a white teddy bear.

Two. To this day, that bear still brings me comfort.

* * *

"From what I've gathered during my stay here… Is that someone of you know, while some of you don't know." Miss Emily paced nervously in front of the classroom. She halts, then turns sullenly towards the class.  
"I think you all deserve to know. As human beings, you deserve the truth,"  
There was a deafening silence.  
"When people grow up, they have goals- they have dreams. Some may become astronauts. Some may become doctors, or lawyers. Some may become artists, or writers, or even a famous athlete.  
"But… None of you will ever become any of those." Her hands shook as she clasped them tightly together. She closed her eyes.  
"You all represent nations. Your duty is to carry the history, the people, the politics, everything as if you were a personification of that country. You are all vital in symbolizing the unity, or destruction, of the world."  
None of the children spoke.  
"In your eighteenth year, you will meet with the current representative. He, or she, will teach you everything that they know. The history, the culture, everything. All that you have learned in all those history lessons through your life will help you as you narrow down to your own specific country.  
"And finally, in your fortieth year, you will complete. The next representative, who you will teach when the time comes, will become the new representative."  
No one spoke a word. Miss Emily looked around the room.  
"I-"  
"Miss Emily." Everyone turned to Matthew.

"Thank you."

* * *

Matthew couldn't believe his eyes.  
He didn't want to believe it.  
Earlier, he had wanted to venture around the school grounds to search for a new reading spot. The library had grown quite loud these days, so he opted to read outdoors.  
He never expected to see Arthur.  
Arthur kissing with Alfred.  
He pinched himself.  
It hurt.  
This was real.

His grip tightened around the teddy bear in his arms.

* * *

August 15th, 1924

I never could have guessed that Alfred would fancy Arthur. Maybe all of that teasing was just to hide his crush.

Through the years I wished for them to separate. They were total opposites- it baffled me as to why they were together. But Arthur looked so happy with him.

They never did separate.

In our eighteenth year, we were brought in groups of four up to the cottages, where our mentors were waiting for us. Whether it was luck or unluckiness, I was in a group with Arthur and Alfred, who were assigned to be England and America. The other boy, Francis was his name, was France.

And I became what was to be known as Canada, though not quite yet.

Upon arriving at the cottages we were greeted with the current representatives of that time. The older Matthew (who told me to call him Canada) looked just like me. He had a friendly smile.

Sometimes I still wonder how many of his smiles were genuine.

* * *

"What was war really like? And don't give me the watered-down version that exists in my textbooks." Canada looked over at Matthew, a gleam in his eye.  
"You're very straight to the point. I like that."  
"Don't dodge the question."  
Canada sighed, before turning fully to his student. "You really want to know?"  
"Yes. I want to be prepared because I might find myself in a war, if the impending tensions in Europe are anything to count on."  
"You're very rational, did anyone tell you that?"  
"You're changing the subject again."  
Canada leaned back. He looked out the window, where the rain left wet scars across the glass.  
"It has changed greatly from the novels you read. Trench warfare is a terrible thing. Tanks, machine guns, grenades- shrapnel is not a pleasant thing."  
"It seems a lot better to me than a bunch of gentlemen marching across a field in bright, silly uniforms in neat little rows." Canada looked back at Matthew.  
"Yes, warfare has improved greatly. Wars are now faster, fiercer, more deadly." A look of annoyance flashed in his features. "But you are asking me about what war really is like. Then I shall enlighten you. In those textbooks you read they tell you how clever we are, how smart of Arthur Curry to come up with his plan at Vimy Ridge. We captured Vimy when none of the other Allies could. It placed us, Canada, on to the world stage. We became known as a nation. But what was it really like to be there? What was it like to run amongst the debris, bombs flying over your head, wondering if you've ran too far ahead and if you'd get blown to bits? What was it like to see men, men like you and me, have their bodies ripped apart by shrapnel and to have their blood splatter across your face? In a book all they mention is the strategic victory we had that day. In a book, they never mention the sacrifices that were made to make that victory. That is the truth of war. We only hear about how it affects us as a whole- the victories, the losses, it's all very vague. But the horror stories, the personal stories, they're all overshadowed and skipped over in such books. Tell me this Matthew; if you saw someone die in front of you, could you walk away like nothing happened?"  
Matthew fidgeted. He didn't know how to reply.  
"And here you are, uncomfortable with even the prospect of seeing someone die. You must begin connecting the facts you hear with the personal feelings that they bring. You are to represent your nation as a whole- your purpose is not to only hold statistics."  
"So I must connect the two. But I must also feel indifferent." Canada looked at him sympathetically.  
"It is what it means to be a nation."

_What it means to be a nation._

* * *

**Chapter 2 will be coming soon. This will be either a two-shot or a three-shot. R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So there was some confusion in the first chapter, but I want to assure my readers that this will eventually be EnglandxCanada. There's still a chapter after this!**

**I want to apologize in advance for this horrible story. I seem to work on it only when I'm the most tired, and yeah... But I'm determined to at least finish it.**

**Hope you guys like it! Now, Onwards!**

* * *

"Want to go for a walk?"  
Matthew looked up from his book,_ The Art of War_ this time, and nodded. Arthur smiled as the other stood up. They left the cottage, walking along the winding path that entered the forest behind their new home.  
"How's everything going with your mentor?" asked Arthur.  
"It's going pretty well."  
"He seems like a kind man." Matthew scoffed at this.  
"No one can be kind after they've seen what he's seen." Arthur gave him a puzzled look.  
"You mean war?"  
"England has spoken to you about it?"  
"He has."  
"Then you must know." Canada kicked at the leaves by his feet.  
"I try not to dwell on it so much."  
An awkward silence fell between the two. They walked side-by side through the forest. The dim sunlight from the morning sunrise filtered through between the leaves of the trees above.  
"England and America are together too you know."  
"I've noticed."  
"It's interesting isn't it? Alfred and I are together, our predecessors are together… Seems like something in those novels we read." Matthew's smile tightened.  
"It seems like it's destiny."0Arthur laughed lightly at this.

"Maybe."

_Maybe._

* * *

"What is the purpose of having us anyways?" asked Matthew, who was currently lying on the couch. Canada sat on the armchair next to him.  
"Representatives for each nation?"  
"Yes." Canada pondered for a bit before replying.  
"There are a few reasons. One being that in any case that total destruction was to occur, if many people died, we would be the ones left here."  
"Even strengthening tablets can't stop us from dying."  
"That's true. But it greatly limit's the ways we could die. Thus, we'd survive longer than the average person. So if there really was total destruction of the world, we'd most likely be the ones left. Us growing up amongst each other, as friends, classmates, and such in Hetalian Academy form a bond between us as nations that can no longer be found among humanity."  
"So… Essentially if the world was to ever fuck up enough and everyone but us dies, the world starts anew with peace?"  
"That's the gist of it."  
"That's stupid." Matthew huffed. "We'd probably be dead too by then."  
"There are other reasons too."  
"Such as?" Canada shifted in his seat.  
"Not so much now… But way back when, people knew of our existence."  
"Really?"  
"They did. It gave them something to fight for, you know? Sometimes, when things are too general, you tend to think selfishly. Having one person, a person to live for, can become the greatest motivation."  
"Why isn't our existence known so much now?"  
"Well for one thing, some may proclaim it as a violation of our human rights." Matthew snorted at this. "And for another, it's much easier to covet another country's representative when more people know who to look for." Canada replied softly.  
"That's true…"  
At that moment, France walked in, quickly followed by Francis.  
"Ah, Canada, mon cher."  
"Good morning France, Francis. _Sa va_?"  
"I would love to say _sa va bien_, but this morning hasn't been so great." Matthew quirked an eyebrow.  
"How so?"  
"They've been arguing again." Sighed France, annoyed. "They are just like America and England. And my room is right next to theirs too. It's a pain."  
"They seem to have been arguing more than usual lately."  
"You know them. When they're both angry, they take the most irrelevant things about each other and make it relevant. More so now that they have a deeper understanding of their history together." Matthew shifted his eyes to France at this.  
"Their history? What did they bring up?"  
"The usual. This morning Arthur jabbed at him about how America didn't run to England's aid in WW1 until the very end, where they didn't really even end up on the battlefield. He said that since he is essentially the same as America, he would abandon Arthur too if the time came."  
"That's stupid. That has nothing to do with them personally."  
"But that's them." Canada suddenly spoke up. "It's always been that way, and it will always be that way. They fight. They find the worst in each other. They accuse each other of things that they have no control over. They are not compatible. They cause harm emotionally and physically to each other. But they are together, and when the good is good, it's great. It's like they're addicted to a certain kind of sadness. They fight, they fuck, and then they fight again. It's a never-ending cycle.

"To them, love and hate seem to be the same thing."

* * *

"You love him."  
It was a statement. Simple as that. Canada paused in his writing. Matthew watched him, expressionless. He could see the other's knuckles turn white, his grip on his pen tightening.

"We all loved him. They all loved America."

* * *

"Mattie! What are you doing up so late?" Matthew looked up. It was a little past three in the morning, and after a dash of insomnia, the Canadian boy had wandered to the den to read_ Goodbye To All That_. He didn't expect Alfred to walk in - or rather, to walk in with the evidence of intimacy all over him.  
"The both of you going at it like rabbits kept me up."  
"What! Really?"  
"I was kidding Alfie. Though, I would much rather you not parade around the cottage smelling of sex. Have you ever heard of a shower?"  
"Aw Mattie! If I took a shower this late I'd wake up everyone." Matthew rolled his eyes.  
"Where's your boytoy?"  
"In bed. He fell asleep right after, 'cause I was that good."  
"I don't mean to be rude, but fuck off Alfred."  
"That's mean! You wound me!" Alfred's smile faltered when he garnered no response from his best friend.  
"Mattie? You okay?"  
"Hmm? Why wouldn't I be?"  
"It's just that… You used to laugh when we joke like this." Matthew looked at him, surprised written on his face.  
"Really?" He hadn't noticed it. Now that he thought about it, Alfred and Arthur's relationship seemed to have bothered him a lot more lately.  
"Matthew… I think I know what's wrong."  
"Oh really? Enlighten me."  
"You've never been in a relationship before. It's bothering you, isn't it?"  
A heavy silence filled the room. Then, Matthew cracked a smile. The smile soon turned into laughter.  
"Shh! You don't want to wake up the entire household!I'm your best friend! You can talk to me about these things, it's okay!"  
"Oh geez Alfie! You're not serious, are you?"  
"Well why else would you be so bothered lately?"  
"Why do you love Arthur?" Alfred frowned at the question.  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
"You guys fight. More often lately." Alfred huddled into himself.  
"Every couple fights, right?" At Matthew's I'm-not-buying-it look, he continued. "When it's good, it's really good. He's a gentleman. It's the little things, y'know? If I forget something he'd softly remind me, when I'm upset he would do anything to make me feel better, I don't know! He just… He makes me feel happy."  
"Then why do you fight?"  
"I guess… It depends on our moods. The things that seem endearing when everything is going good seem annoying when I'm not in a good mood. So we fight."  
"So your relationship changes depending on your mood?" Alfred shot him a hurt look.  
"What are you trying to say?" Matthew simply looked back to his book.  
"I'm just stating what it seems like. How do you think this affects Arthur?"  
"He has his own mood problems too."  
"Are you sure? Or does his moods reflect whatever mood you're in?" Alfred stood up, rage clearly evident on his face.  
"What are you implyi-" Then he stopped. A sympathetic look appeared on his face. "Oh Mattie. It really is, isn't it?" Matthew shot a look at Alfred.  
"What?"  
"You are just angry that it's always been the three of us, but you are the only one that is actually lonely. You're scared that once we leave the cottages me and Arthur will keep in touch but we will leave you behind."  
"Wipe that fake sympathy off your face. It isn't like that."  
"You are just a bitter little virgin."  
_WHACK!_  
"Fuck you, Alfred."  
"You wish you could."  
And with that, Matthew stormed out of the cottage.

* * *

"Canada?" Matthew asked hesitantly. The figure turned around.

"Oh, Matthew. Why are you up so late?"

"Why are you up so late?" The elder shrugged.

" It's a full moon tonight. I just wanted to watch."

"Can I join you?" The other nodded. They sat in a comfortable silence as they watched the night sky subtly shift and change, the moon brightly lighting their surroundings.

"Sometimes..." Canada suddenly spoke up, garnering Matthew's attention. "I like to sit out here during the nighttime and just... Reflect."

"I'd much rather not think and just live. It's too painful to let myself think."

Canada laughed lightly.

"That's true... But there are times like these that I look up at the moon and think to myself 'we are a small part of something much bigger than ourselves.' We are a part of a never-ending story. When we are living, we think of ourselves. Who we are, our personal purpose, what we want to do, our 'bucket list'. But when we die, we become woven into a story. We become a part of history. Here we are, alive, watching the moon - the same moon that the very first Canada has seen as well." Matthew contemplated this.

"Do you think the first Canada looked up at the moon and thought of England, the way we are now?"

"They do say history repeats itself."

Matthew contemplated this.

"I don't want it to repeat." He replied softly. "I want it to change."

"Are you selfish enough to steal him away?"

Matthew laughed humourlessly.

"As if I could do that."

"Then are you going to try to fall out of love?"

"Did you try it?" Canada nodded. "With who?"

"France." Matthew looked at him, surprised. "Unlike you, I was friends with him back in Hetalian Academy. Later on I found out he had feelings for me, and it all became quite messy." Matthew looked at the ground.

"So you stayed in love with England."

"I did. I didn't want to risk hurting anyone else but me."

"'but me' eh ... then... what about me? Would you hurt me?" Matthew asked, immediately looking away after realising how long his eyes had lingered on his mentor.

Hurting, to Matthew, was something he wanted to have.

* * *

"Matthew-"  
"Don't stop." It was more of a plea than a demand. Long, pale fingers wove desperately through blonde locks, tightening at ever thrust. Violet eyes met violet eyes, both looking, but not seeing.  
"Faster."  
"I'll hurt you if I-"  
"Just do it!"  
Their movements amongst the sheets became faster, more frantic.  
It was wrong.  
Things weren't meant to be like this.  
"Make me forget." Tears streaked down Matthew's face. "Make me forget him."  
He cried. He hardly ever did, but he wept. He wept for himself. He wept for Canada. He wept for every single one of his predecessors who had unrequited love for England.  
And they released, and Canada fell on top of Matthew in exhaustion.

* * *

"You did it with your mentor." Matthew refused to look at Francis in the eye.  
"I did."  
"Why?" Matthew wiped the dish dry, then gently placed it into the cupboard above him.  
"It won't change your feelings. Both of your feelings." Francis whispered knowingly.  
"At least we can pretend."  
"That each other is Arthur? You think that helps?"  
"Then what, huh?!" Snapped Matthew. "Don't feed me that 'time heals all wounds' bullshit because every personification before me have loved him and none of them got him. And then I'll have to tell the one after me that they will never be loved, because it's always been that way. Every single damn personification of Canada."  
"You could just tell him. It's worth a shot. Do what all your predecessors couldn't do."  
"I… I don't want to give him guilt."  
"Be selfish for once, Matthew."

And then Francis walked away.

* * *

I never did tell him.

In our twentieth year, we left the cottages. We all went our separate ways, going to our respective countries. As the years passed by, tensions in Europe increased rapidly, especially with the rise of fascism and the Nazis in Germany. I did all I could to prepare myself for war. From what I learned about the first world war, our country will do most of the dirty work, and hardly get the recognition.  
But it didn't matter, so long as I somehow managed to help England.  
I say England because _I am now Canada_. My mentor reached his fortieth year some time ago.  
Those strengthening tablets we took did have a severe side effect. Like many other sorts of medications, or energy boosts, or drugs, it would improve everything, but after a certain amount of time, it crashes down.  
If we were to live past our fortieth year, we aged and weakened much faster than the average person.  
So when we did reach that age, we simply 'completed'.  
I couldn't bear to see my mentor get the injection. We said our goodbyes before he went into the completion room.  
Completion room. What a quaint name.

True to Alfred's word, I never did contact with them after the cottages. Not for awhile anyways.

* * *

November, 1940

"Corporal Williams." Cold, icy violet eyes darted to the source of the voice.  
"Indeed I am. What news?" The soldier shrunk back a bit under the other's sharp gaze.  
"Corporal Kirkland of the British Armed Forces has been found."  
"Bring me to him."  
"Yes sir."  
Canada followed through a series of winding hallways. There was much chaos around them. Painful moans pervaded the air, the scent of blood mingled with that of morphine. The cries of distress surrounded Canada, but he ignored them, briskly following the soldier.  
This was a hospital after all.  
"Corporal Williams. He resides in there."  
"Thanks you soldier." The soldier saluted, then left quickly. Canada turned the knob and opened the door.  
"Canada."  
"Please leave us for a few moments."  
"He is about to get his-"  
"I understand. But please give us ten minutes. That's all I ask."  
The nurse, annoyed, reluctantly nodded her head. She whispered a few words to the huddled figure in the bed, then left the room.  
"Arthur." The figure did not move. "You look like shit."  
"Git." Canada could not fight off the relief he felt at the sound of the other's voice. He walked around the bed to sit in the chair beside Arthur. His dog tags clinked at the movement. England opened one eye to look at them.  
"Corporal Williams? Nice cover-up. I can see that your second dog tag is still attached. You're not dead yet I see."  
"As if Kirkland is any better of a name. And I'm talking to you, aren't I? So I'm very much alive. You, on the other hand…"  
"Bugger off." Snapped Arthur, groaning at the movement. "And damn this Blitz."  
"I see Alfred hasn't entered the war."  
"That idiot wouldn't do anything unless it punched him in the face."  
"So you punched him in the face?" Sniggered Canada.  
"What do you mean he- oh."  
"A little slow, aren't you?"  
"I'm a mess of morphine and nausea. What do you think?"  
"You still with him?"  
"No." That caught Canada off guard.  
"Wait.. What?"  
"He and I aren't together anymore. It's done."  
"When?"  
"There was no when. When the war started I hardly contacted him. His lack of care for me angered me. So we just simply stopped talking. I just consider us as done." Canada's eyes went wide.  
"Well… Shit."  
There was a knock at the door before the nurse walked back in, followed by a doctor. Canada stood up to give them access to England.  
"How many this time?" the bed-ridden nation asked.  
"Four." _Four-thousand more dead_. England nodded, expressionless. The doctor lifted Arthur's shirt up, before the nurse handed him a sterilized knife. He made four deep incisions under the five that were already there on his side.

Four plus five.

Nine thousand people dead so far.

* * *

"I love you."  
"I know." Canada looked at England, surprised. He took a particularly longer drag from his cigarette.  
"Alfred told you, didn't he."  
"No he didn't." Canada quirked his eyebrow. "Your mentor did."  
"What? He did?" England looked away.  
"He did. And I told him I knew. I always knew."  
"Then why did you choose Alfred over me?" England turned to look at Canada.  
"Because you are not like him. You are gentle. You are selfless. You are stronger than you let on. I didn't want to destroy that. I didn't deserve you. Alfred was fragile, too needy." Canada stayed silent. "At first, I did love Alfred. He seemed strong, something I needed. You were the soft, gentle boy who was like a brother to me. As time went on, I found all the flaws in Alfred. I blamed him for his flaws, so he blamed me for mine."  
"So you fell out of love. What then?"  
"When I wasn't with him, I hated him. I hated him so much. But when I was with him, I loved him. I forgot all about his flaws and I loved him. It was a never-ending cycle. My twisted feelings, they confused even me, why would I want to hurt you with them?"  
Canada reached out and held England's hand.

"I want to be hurt."

* * *

**FINAL CHAPTER COMING UP. Ugh this monstrosity of a fanfic. Every time I decide to write this one, It's like, 3 A.M. and my mind is like, dead. But I want to finish what I've started. **

**Honestly, the part where Matthew and Canada 'do it', I switched between France or Canada so much... I didn't know if it would be entirely appropriate. But I settled with 'one would rather console themselves rather than search for others and hurt them in the process', so I went with Canada instead.**

**Reviews and favourites are appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**OK I LIED. THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER.**  
**This ended up going longer than I anticipated, so there will be ONE MORE CHAPTER.**  
**Thanks for sticking to this fanfic so far =) I LOVE YOU ALL. I know earlier on I was complaining about this fanfic, but I am starting to like it. Maybe because I'm writing this earlier in the day, not at 3 A.M.**  
**And I discovered the whole 'book cover' thing for this site, so I changed them all for my fanfics =D with our cosplay pictures oh geez.**  
**Anyways, onwards!**

* * *

Maybe it was stupid for me to confess my love as bombs fell around us. Or maybe I did it because I was scared that I would regret my words. Either way, the side of the hospital was bombed, and as we scrambled to safety, we were separated. The last thing he told me through the wreckage was that he'd live so that we could see each other again. His face looked so sincere - or maybe not, one cannot really be sure anymore.  
In the winter of 1941, I was in Hong Kong. As I helped my soldiers fight off the Japanese, I received word of the attack on Pearl Harbour, and America's declaration of war. I was right - Alfred didn't spring into action until it really did punch him in the face. I could care less though; I was preoccupied with keeping my people alive out there on the battlefield, my allies too.  
I must admit I did become immune to the horrors of war. I fell into a phase of indifference. I grew up caring for others over myself - the problems of others upset me more than my own problems. War, it changed me. I became selfish - I no longer batted an eyelash at the pain of others. All I was focused on was my duty.  
It took a bayonet through the gut to bring me back to my senses.

* * *

A Hospital in Hong Kong, December 24th, 1941

"It would help if you listened to what the nurse said." Hong Kong mused, staring intently at the struggling blonde in the bed before him.  
"Sen, tell your hospital staff to unhand me!" growled Canada. "My shoulder is fine! I need to go out there and-"  
"Matthew." Violet eyes met with livid ones. "I greatly appreciate all that you have done for me and my people. Please, at least rest for a few more hours." He paused, then continued in a more subdued tone. "We are surrendering. There is nothing more we can really do. Your men have fought valiantly, Canada. It is time for you to accept what is done, and allow yourself to recuperate. Soon the helicopter for you will be here, and you will be sent to safety."  
"But-"  
"It is done, Matthew. Allow yourself to heal for wherever your duty calls you next." Sen reached out his hand and awkwardly placed it over Canada's arm. "I know that failure means more to you now than it did in the past. However, wasting your men away at a lost cause is not in anyone's best interest. Think for your people."  
Before Matthew could reply, one of his own soldiers scrambled into the room.  
"Sir! The Japanese! They have entered the hospital and are ki-" before the man could finish his sentence, something sharp struck through his body, and what followed was utter chaos. Before he knew it, Canada had pushed Hong Kong aside and a bayonet had struck him through his abdomen. His mind froze; it was the first time he had a potentially fatal injury.  
Between the rush from the hospital to his personal helicopter, he was shell-shocked. He didn't register the fact that it was Japan himself, _Kiku_, that had stabbed him. He didn't grasp the sight of innocent soldiers being bayoneted in their hospital beds, skewered into the mattresses below them. Before he knew it, he was in the helicopter, a medical team already working on his wound.  
"You better not die on me after I tried my best to stay alive for you, you bloody git." At the sound of the familiar voice, Canada finally realized what had happened, and the pain in his side became apparent. He gasped in pain, before looking for the source of the voice.  
It was Arthur.  
"Wha… Eng-"  
"Shut up, Matthew." And with that, he bent down to give Matthew a soft, chaste kiss.  
Matthew's eyes widened. Arthur pulled back, concern graced his features.  
"Now don't try to say anything or move. Let the doctors work on your wound." He turned to one of the nurses. "How is he?"  
"Fine, Corporal Kirkland. Thankfully, no major damage has been done to any of his organs. He was lucky." Arthur nodded, before turning back to see Matthew's wide-eyed look.  
"Does it hurt really bad? The morphine should kick in momentarily."  
"You… You kissed me." Arthur's eyes softened.  
"I did. To make up for what we should have done last time I saw you." Matthew's face flushed. Then, he winced in pain.  
"Back… Back at the hospital, what happened? Sen… the patients… the doctors, the nurses, the children, the elderly the-"  
"Matthew calm dow-"  
"I can't, Arthur! I… let them all die without a care. I… oh God. I didn't care…"  
"Shhhh, Matthew." Arthur kissed him tenderly on his forehead. "Slow down. What happened?"  
"Arthur… I've failed. Before I was angry because I did not live up to my duty but - but now… I've failed the people, Arthur! They died… I could have prevented that! I-"  
"Matthew." The Canadian looked up at him wearily. "Sometimes, it is easier to ignore the bad things in order to protect ourselves. You grew immune to the horrors of war because it was your coping method. There is no fault in the fact that you haven't realized it until it personally happened to you. It is human nature; we don't think the things around us affect us until it really does. You are only human, Matthew."  
"I am only human…" Canada's eyes, downcast, wandered to where the doctors were attempting to close the wound. By now the morphine had kicked in, and the pain was mostly gone. He slowly moved his hand to rest on top of England's.  
"I wish I could be a hero…" He lifted his gaze to look at the man that he loved. "So I could protect everyone… But heroes have no boundaries. I am human, therefore imperfect."  
"Chin up, Matthew. You have done very well already. You pushed back the Japanese far longer than anyone thought you could. More could have died if you weren't there. Now, you rest up." Matthew nodded numbly. "Good. Rest now, Matthew."  
"I guess I will. Arthur?"  
"Yes Matthew?"  
"Thank you." _I love you._  
And with that, he allowed himself to succumb to his fatigue.

* * *

When Matthew next woke up, Arthur was no longer there.  
A note, however, was placed neatly on his bedside table, tucked underneath an almond flower.  
_The flower of promise._  
Matthew groaned as he sat up. Gingerly, he picked up the flower. It was still fresh, so it must have been local - meaning that he was probably somewhere in South Asia. He picked up the note as well, and carefully unfolded it.  
_Dear Matthew,_  
_I have been called away to the United States to attend the Arcadia Conference. The signing of the Declaration of United Nations will be taking place, and you have been pardoned because of your injury._  
_Take it easy, and don't fight with the hospital staff. I don't want you to run off to save people without regaining your full health first._  
_I am looking forward to seeing you again. The almond flower, I am sure you know the meaning behind it. I don't want you to forget the conversation we had. Work hard, Matthew, but remember to not overdo it, and to not beat yourself up about what you can not control._  
_Also… Remember our kiss. It's… a promise. I promise to treat you right, Matthew._  
_You are dear to me._  
_Love, Arthur_  
Alfred was going to be at the conference. Will seeing him rekindle Arthur's affections? Matthew didn't want to think that it would. On a similar vein, Arthur never said the words 'I love you' to Matthew yet either. Matthew hoped that the flower spoke true of Arthur's promise of love.

* * *

I was actually relocated to India from Hong Kong during that incident. I was nursed back to perfect health before I went back into action.  
I fought in Dieppe in 1942. Though supposedly England and America were there, I never saw them. In 1943 the most notable battle I fought at was the Battle of Ortona. A creative military tactic was used there - we went from house to house secretly through the attics, knocking holes into the walls to get to the other house. That way, we were able to secure hold of most of the place before we were even discovered. I take much pride in the military genius of my people - I still remember my mentor recounting proudly of the tactics used in Vimy Ridge (when he wasn't upset over the memories from the actual battle.)

1944 was the next time I saw Arthur.

* * *

Juno Beach - Normandy, France, June 6th 1944

Canada slumped against the wall, trying to regain his breath as fatigue racked his body. He let himself fall to the floor against the building, sitting down with his legs out in front of him. A small smile crept to his lips. They did it - they have successfully secured their place on Juno Beach, and able to start the campaign to recapture Caen. From what his fellow officers told him, they were the first to reach the designated point inland. His mind wandered over to Arthur and Alfred, who were still in battle. Will they be okay? Being the last to arrive and the first to reach so far inland, he secretly hoped it would impress England. Hopefully.  
As his soldiers started to set up camp around him, Canada took out a small journal. A year ago he received word that the next 'Canada' was almost ready to be mentored. Because of the current situation, the next generation were mostly going to be taught by reading the journals of the predecessors - such as the ones he had seen his own mentor scribbling in back in the day.  
He wrote about the landings, and the immediate onslaught of violence that met them as they approached the beach. He wrote about his comrades being shot in the water, before they could even reach land. The bad weather was also something to blame - it greatly hindered the amount of time the Canadians were able to use to reach the beach. There were many delays, due to the amount of men and vehicles that were in the way. Although only one unit actually succeeded in their D-Day objective, the Canadians had pushed farther inland than any of the others - as far as Canada could tell. He also wrote about the things he saw - especially that one soldier who was blasted open, and tried desperately to place his intestines back into his body. It was important for his underling to understand all the parts of war - not just the facts, but the experience as well. This was something his own mentor had taught him well.  
After he had recounted his experience of the day in to his journal, he fished out his cigarette box from his pocket, and took one out with his mouth. He searched for his lighter, but could not find it.  
"Fuck."  
"Is that an invitation?" Matthew looked up, his eyes wide. There was England, battered and bloody, but alive nonetheless. The other limped over to him, before plopping himself down next to the Canadian. "I don't think it'd be appropriate for us to shag on the battlefield, Matthew." He reached into his pocket, and took something out. It was a lighter.  
"Thanks." Mumbled Matthew as he took the lighter. He lit up his cigarette, before handing it back to Arthur. "How did things go?"  
"Fine, I guess. I'm not here to talk about work though. First time you see me in two years, I thought you'd be more surprised."  
"I'm more relieved." Whispered Matthew. "You seem okay, besides the blood seeping through your pants. Here, let me take a look." He handed the cigarette to Arthur before lifting the other's pant leg to see the damage.  
"It's just a bit of shrapnel don't worry about it so much."  
"It needs to be taken out though. Hold on." Matthew got up and went to the nearest tent to retrieve a first-aid kit. He came back and knelt in front of Arthur's leg. He poured water over the wound. Arthur winced.  
"This is going to hurt."  
"Just get on with it. I'm not some wea- ARGH." Matthew had pulled out the shrapnel. "Bloody hell a little more warning next time?"  
"What happened to not being weak?"  
"Git."  
"Oh, I wonder if there's more in there?" Matthew purposely poked his finger into the wound. The other man yelped in pain.  
"Stop that!"  
Matthew snickered.  
" Not so tough now, hmm? Don't make that face, Arthur. I'm sorry." He laughed lightly. He took out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured it over the wound. Arthur let out a stream of curses but was stopped short by Matthew's lips over his. "Shh. It will be over soon, just bear with me." He took out a needle and thread.  
"Hurry up."  
"Shush." Matthew threaded the needle before slipping it through the other's skin. Ignoring the hiss of pain from the other, he continued to stitch the wound up. After he was done, he doused the wound up with more rubbing alcohol, enticing another yelp of pain from Arthur.  
"There all better."  
Arthur took a weary drag from the cigarette before throwing it off to the side. He struggled to stand up, with the aid of Matthew.  
"I'm supposed to go and check up on Alfred."  
_Alfred._  
"O-oh…" Arthur caught the look on Matthew's face.  
"You can come with me, Matthew. I don't want you to be suspicious. Alfred and I are officially over. We confirmed it back when we met at the Arcadia Conference." Matthew sighed a breath of relief. "Now let's go." Matthew watched as Arthur limped away. Rolling his eyes, he went and picked up the other bridal-style.  
"Wha-"  
"Stop being so stubborn. You're injured. Let me take care of you." The British man remained silent as they reached one of the military trucks. He gently placed the other on to the seat before taking a seat himself. He turned to the driver, who saluted to him. He directed him to the edge of Omaha Beach.

* * *

"He's in here." Matthew and Arthur exchanged a quick glance before following the soldier into the tent.  
"Corporal Jones, Corporal Williams and Corporal Kirkland are here to see you."  
"Thank you."  
Alfred's eyes were bandaged.  
"Glad to see you both. Well, not exactly see, but…" He chuckled. "I'm glad to have you both here with me."  
"Alfred." Matthew's voice held a hint of guilt. The last time he had seen Alfred, they ended on a sour note. Seeing Alfred now, injured and bed-ridden - it hurt him.  
"I'm lucky." Said Alfred, smiling. "The doctor said that if nothing goes wrong, my eyes will be okay. I'll have to wear glasses though." He beckoned for them to come closer. They both sat on the side of his bed.  
"How did it go?" Asked Alfred.  
"A success. We will begin advancing inland soon."  
"That's good to hear. Unfortunately, I will not be able to join you guys. They are transporting me to a proper hospital, probably one in England since it is closer than my home."  
"Please get better, Alfred." Whispered Arthur. "Both of us hold you dear. We don't want to lose you."  
"Yeah… I know." Alfred gulped. "You know… Yao completed early."  
"He… He did?" Matthew's voice trembled. He still remembered their days back in Hetalian Academy. Yao was a headstrong boy. He never broke down or cried no matter what happened. To think that he would complete early…  
"It was because of Japan, wasn't it?" Alfred nodded solemnly.  
"We can't really blame Kiku though. To have everyone around you drill their ideals into your head constantly would change anyone. I'm afraid for when the war is over, when he realizes all that he has done. That would completely break Kiku."  
"He is only human after all. We all are."  
"What happened to Yao? Was it the result of being a representative or was he hurt directly-"  
"Directly. By Kiku's own hands."  
_Kiku's own hands._  
"They were lovers before their duties tore them apart."  
A heavy silence fell between them. It was Alfred who broke it first.  
"I… I want to say that I'm sorry."  
"For what, Alfred?" Matthew inquired.  
"For keeping you both apart." Matthew and Arthur exchanged a look. "I was… jealous. You had real love and I didn't… I wanted it so badly."  
"it's in the past, Alfred." Whispered Arthur. "And I am to blame as well."  
"No!" Snapped Alfred. "I said things to change your mind, Arthur. I made you… believe, believe that Matthew was too good for you. I made you believe that our twisted love was what we needed because it was the only way we wouldn't hurt others. I am sorry."  
"It's too late to change anything now, Alfred." said Matthew, who placed his hand on Alfred's arm. "We should forget the past and just look forward to the future. For now, we should be focusing on the war."  
"But I-"  
"I forgive you, Alfred. Let it go." Alfred nodded slowly. "We both love you. It was always the three of us, no matter what happened. The three musketeers, the three amigos! Nothing will change that." Alfred smiled at what Matthew said.  
"Thank you Matthew, Arthur."  
A doctor came in and told them that it was time for America to rest. With one last goodbye, Canada and England left tent.

It was the last time they saw Alfred.

* * *

**Final chapter coming up. **

**I hope my historical facts are accurate. I researched a bit on the battles. Last time I learned Canadian History was back in Grade 10. That's like... 2, 3 years ago? Haha.**

**Well, Reviews are loved! Haha, it motivates me to write, but you don't have to =) To know that people are reading this already makes me happy.**

**Love you all!**


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